


The Promise Kept

by Runic



Series: Rarely Do We See [2]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Please, not again.”</p><p>Heimdall closed his eyes for a brief moment against the constant phrase that echoed in his mind, his skin prickling with a strange sense of battle readiness and weariness, reminding him of a promise he had not made, and yet had to keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promise Kept

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Loki clutched Odin’s hand tightly as they walked down the Bifrost, as silent as Thor was animated on Odin’s other side. Odin had always painted Heimdall as their constant protector, but Thor found it fun to come into Loki’s room before bed and weave stories about how Heimdall was just waiting for Loki to do something wrong so he could tell Odin.  Loki would have nightmares about Odin’s disapproving stare, of tears falling from Frigga’s eyes, and Thor turning his back on Loki in shame. For his sins their only choice was to exile him from Asgard, all because of Heimdall.

And now he had to meet this terrible sentinel, who had become as frightening to him as the Jotun he made Frigga check for under the bed.

Loki stepped closer to Odin. He was on his father’s blind side, so Odin had to fully turn his head to see his second son, but that just meant the full brilliance of his smile was directed at Loki. Loki managed a small smile of his own. Odin’s smiles were rare, and Loki treasured each one that was just for him.

When they were finally in sight of Heimdall, Thor began dragging Odin along, while Loki slowed down and started dragging him back. For all that it was a rare moment when Odin dropped his kingly demeanor for that of the father, Heimdall just seemed to ignore it. His golden eyes remained fixed forward, seeing worlds other than Asgard.

Thor let go of Odin’s hand and ran forward, a bouncing ball of energy that talked more at Heimdall than to him. Odin chuckled, squeezing Loki’s hand. “He will not eat you, Loki.”

 _That_ did not make Loki feel better. Having Odin’s strong presence by his side did though, enough that when Odin pushed him forward with the introduction, “I have finally brought my sons to meet you, Heimdall,” Loki did not flinch back and hide behind Odin’s legs.

He stepped forward, neck craning back as he looked up and up and up at the gatekeeper. There was so much of him, and despite all the gold on him, the most stunning things were his eyes. Heimdall finally turned to look at him, and for a moment those golden eyes seemed to laugh. Loki had no idea why, but it quashed the fear that had filled him up to that point.

And then Heimdall’s gaze finally turned to Thor, giving the eldest prince the attention he was now practically begging for. No one had ever denied Thor anything before.

Loki decided he could stop having Frigga check for scary Heimdalls under the bed.

/

It was Heimdall, with his far seeing gaze, who was first aware of the situation. He saw the boar’s tusk go through Thor’s side, and watched as the young prince fell down with a cry. Loki screamed his brother’s name, his magic lashing out unconsciously against the animal that had injured Thor. The boar was torn apart, gore coating the forest floor. Loki sunk to his knees beside Thor, completely exhausted. But there were more creatures moving between the trees, and they knew the princes were vulnerable.

The statue like Heimdall moved forward then, leaving his post. Odin had seen, and was on his way as well, but Heimdall was in a position to get to the princes faster. Hǫfuð sang as it cut through animal flesh, the creatures crying out in pain before their lives ended.

When it was all over, Loki looked up at him, his usual fear forgotten. “Hemidall, help him! Please!”

_“Please, not again.”_

Heimdall closed his eyes for a brief moment against the constant phrase that echoed in his mind, his skin prickling with a strange sense of battle readiness and weariness, reminding him of a promise he had not made, and yet had to keep. When he opened them, Odin was kneeling beside Thor. The Allfather took his true son into his arms, mindful of his wound. “See Loki back,” he ordered over his shoulder before mounting his horse and rushing off with Thor.

Loki shuffled onto his feet, head down and eyes falling closed. Heimdall stared down at him for a moment before offering his hand. Loki looked up, blinking, small hand reaching up tentatively to take Heimdall’s much larger one.

 

Later, while Thor was showing off his wound to his friends, Loki rode his pony down the Bifrost. Heimdall watched as he dismounted, holding a small object in his hands as he approached. The thing was, Loki could sweet talk and lie his way around anyone, anyone besides Heimdall. He had always seen through Loki, and it left the younger prince in a kind of terrified awe when it came Heimdall.

The second prince placed the object down on the Bifrost in front of Heimdall, then hurried back to his pony. Loki completely missed the small upturn of Heimdall’s lips when he saw the replica of his helmet, constructed out of pure magic.

/

“Usually you are cleverer than this.”

Loki’s eyes flicked to Heimdall briefly before they fell shut again. “People usually enjoy beaches, Heimdall.”

“People also usually do not steal from goddesses.” Heimdall towered over the Trickster, blocking the sun from Loki’s face.

Loki sighed and opened his eyes again. “Nor do you usually offer help to them.”

_“Not again, Heimdall. Please, not again.”_

Again those words echoed in his head, again the prickling sensation traveled throughout his blood. They were the only reason Heimdall stopped to ask, “Why?”

Green eyes narrowed into a glare. “All Thor did was knock some heads together and Freya decided to shower gifts on him! Not one of them remembered that celebration was for me. I did not work so long with that perverted ambassador, just to have my success shoved off into the shadows.” Loki finally stood, sand clinging to his clothes and hair. “Freya owed me a gift.”

Heimdall’s eyebrow quirked upward. “You know you have to give it back.”

Loki’s face went through a multitude of emotions, twisting from anger, to grief, to resignation. He finally reached up, unfastening Brísingamen, Freya’s prized necklace, from his throat, and thrusting it into Heimdall’s outstretched hands. “You have what you came for. Go.”

“Odin has ordered I bring you home as well.”

“Of course he has.” Loki sighed in resignation, not fighting the heavy hand Heimdall placed on his shoulder to guide him home.

 

Loki was restricted to his rooms for his crimes. The only things that made it bearable were the rare flowers from Vanaheim that had appeared on his table one morning. They had numerous magical qualities, but only bloomed at random times. No one had yet come up with a way to predict when they would be in flower. Well, no one besides a certain far seeing gatekeeper.

/

He was running, but not fast enough. His whole plan hinged on him being able to outrun one Norns’-forsaken horse. It had to work, it had to!

He could hear Svaðilfari’s hooves on the ground behind him, all too quickly coming up beside him. The night air rushed past him, slamming the scent of his own fear into his nostrils. Despite his limbs shaking with tiredness, Svaðilfari kept on coming. Loki took a sharp turn, hoping it would throw Svaðilfari off long enough to put some more distance between them. The problem, however, was that Loki was not used to running on four legs. He ended up tumbling down the sudden drop off of a hill, Svaðilfari racing down with something close to impossible balance. He was on top of Loki almost before Loki could register what had happened.

And then came a flash of gold, the smell of blood filling the air, Svaðilfari’s high pitched screech as he was flung back. Loki regained his feet just as Svaðilfari went down. His eyes were wild as he tried to force air into his lungs, his blood pooling out around him. When that failed, he laid back, breath wheezy and weak.

Loki did not take his eyes off Svaðilfari until it was over, too horrified and confused by the ordeal to process with any sort of clarity what had happened. Heimdall stood close by, just out of Loki’s line of sight so as not to crowd him, wiping blood off the recently used Hǫfuð. Loki took a tentative step toward the gatekeeper, butting his nose against Heimdall’s elbow. It was as close to thanks as he could get at the moment, much too shaken up to change back.

Heimdall didn’t say anything, only patted Loki’s neck, and patiently waited.

 

When Loki finally regained his Æsir form, days later, Heimdall was still there. “Why?” Loki asked, his voice rough.

“Odin said to bring you home,” Heimdall offered simply.

“That was years ago.”

“As far as I am concerned, the order still stands.”

/

Heimdall watched Loki start down the Bifrost, turn around with a snarl, then sigh and turn back around again. It was a strange place for anyone to take a stroll, to say the least. The sun was setting by the time Loki finally stopped his pacing directly in the middle of the Bifrost.

Heimdall allowed himself to sigh. Loki had grown clever, but distant, as Thor became the favored son of Asgard. Well, the Bifrost was in Heimdall’s care; at least that’s what Heimdall told himself as he made the slow trek to where the Trickster had taken up residence.

Loki started, his foot nearly slipping from the Bifrost, when Heimdall’s arm brushed up against his own. Heimdall reached out to pull him back, Loki falling against his chest. In the low light, the blush across Loki’s cheeks would have been invisible to anyone other than Heimdall. “Careful,” the gatekeeper drawled.

Loki pulled back, the long lines of his body screaming defiance. “If I am disturbing your precious bridge, then I will leave.”

“I said no such thing about a disturbance. I simply wondered what brought you out here. Surely there are duties for you to attend before your brother’s coronation.”

“Yes,” Loki answered in a voice so calm it left no doubt in Heimdall’s mind that the younger god was up to something. “You need not remind me.”

“So why spend the day out here then?”

 Heimdall waited, knowing that Loki was always more willing to talk when he had an attentive audience. “I had a dream,” Loki finally said, staring out over the edge of the Bifrost. The rigidness of his body now seemed more from fear. “What is out there?”

“Nightmares and horrors, things hidden even from my sight.”

Loki looked up, blinking innocently. Heimdall mentally shook his head at the display. He had watched Loki grow, had paid attention to the habits Loki had picked up as tells, and he knew fake innocence on Loki when he saw it. “I thought nothing was hidden from you.”

“And you would know,” Heimdall countered. “There are times I search for you, and yet, you are nowhere to be found.”

Loki glared at him. “Keeping an eye on me, gatekeeper?”

“Always.”

Loki made a noise of disgust, and turned on his heel. _“Not again, Heimdall. Please, not again.” Green eyes begging him, fearful before they dulled to death. He cradled Loki’s body as he fell to his knees. ‘No, Loki, never again.’_

 Heimdall reached out again, grabbing Loki’s hand, still small in Heimdall’s own. “Your actions will have far more reaching consequences than you can imagine,” he said slowly, eyes carefully trained on nothing but Loki’s face. “They will lead you down a path you cannot turn back from.”

“Maybe that path is one I need to travel,” Loki snapped back.

“A path of hatred and destruction? I think not.” Heimdall leaned forward, brushing his lips over Loki’s. “Not for you.”

Loki stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before teleporting back to his rooms.

Heimdall allowed himself a small smile as he walked back to the Observatory.

/

Gungnir was heavy in his hand, and despite Frigga’s words, Loki had no idea what his place was anymore. He was neither Prince nor son of Asgard. He was a Jotun, one of the monsters Thor had promised to wipe out.

A snarl ripped from his throat as he advanced toward the throne room. No, he would prove that he was above such uncivilized barbarism. He would undo all of Thor’s mistakes. He would be the one worthy of Odin’s throne.

If only Heimdall was not in his way.

The gatekeeper stood barring the end of the hallway, obviously waiting for him. “Do you know why,” Heimdall began slowly, “Odin never used the Bifrost to destroy Jotunheim?”

“I do not see how this has any importance right now,” Loki snapped.

“It is because,” Heimdall continued on as if Loki had not spoken, “it would disrupt Yggdrasil. The aftereffects of the death of one Realm would cause the others to start collapsing. To kill one world would be to kill all of them.”

“That is fascinating,” Loki drawled. Despite the calmness of his voice, Heimdall could see Loki calculating, debating if this new information was true, and if so, worth changing his plans for. “Now, move.”

He tried to shove past Heimdall, but the gatekeeper was unmovable. “Loki, I told you this was not a path for you to travel-”

“You knew!” Loki suddenly hissed, because of course Heimdall would know. He would have seen Odin take him from Jotunheim. “Why should I listen to anything you have to say when all that spills from your lips are falsehoods?”

The full force of Heimdall’s gaze leveled on him, and it was the only thing that made Loki pause. “Tell me if  I speak falsely now, God of Lies. When Odin came home with you, I told him to cut your throat. I told him you would only bring destruction and misery to Asgard.”

Loki had to stop himself from breaking apart, because he could hear only truths in Heimdall’s words. “You’ve had your chances to see me dead. Why save me?”

“Because, I can still be proven wrong.” Heimdall let it sit between them, let Loki know that the unchanging Heimdall had changed his mind. It was another piece that chipped away at Loki’s understanding of who he was, so he shoved it aside, refusing to acknowledge its existence.

“Go away, Heimdall,” he finally choked out. “I have other matters to attend to.”

Heimdall’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and Loki flinched under the weight. “You can make Odin proud of you, but not like this.” Heimdall finally stepped around him, leaving Loki alone in the hallway.

What an absolutely awful day.

/

Heimdall was only ever going to admit it to himself, but when Loki came to him with, “What do I do?” on his lips, there was a swell in his heart. Loki looked so broken, but the words that had echoed so many times in his memory laid silent, the prickling that stirred his blood having vanished.

It would not end like it had before. 


End file.
